


before the end

by boom_goes_the_canon



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Barricade Day, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boom_goes_the_canon/pseuds/boom_goes_the_canon
Summary: Grantaire wakes up too early.Or, what would have happened.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	before the end

  1. by the execution of Le Cabuc



Grantaire is awoken by the sound of a gunshot. It’s nighttime, and the first floor of the Corinthe has been stripped of its chairs and tables. He staggers across the room, looking for a candle, and he hears the unmistakable tones of Enjolras’ voice. He is talking about death and love and liberty, and Grantaire goes to the window to listen. He doesn’t mean to, doesn’t even realize that he is thinking about it. His feet take him there nonetheless.

From the window, he can just see Enjolras, disheveled and deadly calm. He catches a glimpse of the corpse of a man, and the pool of blood. The contents of his stomach make a violent reappearance, and just as he is wiping his mouth, someone spots him.

“Grantaire!” Bossuet shouts from the ground. Grantaire grimaces at him. It is not a pretty sight.

“Come join us!” Joly says gleefully, blowing his nose with similar glee. Grantaire shakes his head, remembering the events of the morning. He grips the window ledge and declaims loudly about his perch being lofty and that men always conspire to bring such people down to their level. Most of those in earshot roll their eyes. Grantaire keeps going, his eyes glazed. His voice breaks and squeaks, a symptom of too much wine and the uneasy buzzing in his gut. When he pauses, he fancies gunshots in the air, the smell of powder in his nostrils.

“Come down,” someone nearby says, and Grantaire startles at the sound. Enjolras stares at him, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. His voice falters.

“Bring your table,” Enjolras says. “We need everything we can spare.” He looks Grantaire in the eye, and Grantaire drops his gaze. “And everyone.”

Grantaire cannot join them fast enough.

  1. by the arrival of Marius Pontmercy



Grantaire wakes to the sound of fighting. Outside is chaos, a roar of clashing and bullets. He can’t stop his hands from shaking, and his heart thunders so loud that he can hear it in his ears. He drops to the floor.

“Back or I blow the barricade!” comes a strangely familiar voice. The fighting stops. Grantaire, very cautiously, raises his head. The window is nearby, after all.

Marius Pontmercy stands at the top of the barricade, the light from the torch he is holding casting half his face into shadow. He holds a keg of what should be powder, and his face looks like Death. Grantaire almost believes that he is, what with the blood and gore surrounding them. He doesn’t dare to look below Marius, at the slaughter at his feet.

A young sergeant looks up at him. “And yourself with it,” he says, almost sneers.

Pontmercy’s face is wild, and his eyes gleam. “And myself, also,” he says, dipping the torch to the powder. Grantaire falls to the floor again, his blood like water in his veins.

But no other blows come. The barricade falls silent for a few seconds, and then everyone surges to congratulate the Pontmercy boy. Grantaire considers them, and heads downstairs. Later, he will clear his throat and mock Marius for all he’s worth, and take satisfaction in seeing him turn various shades of the rainbow.

No one mentions what transpired in the Corinthe, and Grantaire is profoundly grateful. He would bite his tongue in two before he admits to it.

  1. by the death of Gavroche



Grantaire wakes when Gavroche dies. There is nothing poetic about it. He stumbles downstairs and meets the grieving men, and he has nothing to say.

Courfeyrac bandages Marius’ head with his cravat. He finishes the bandage with an elaborate bow, but his face is somber. Gavroche is laid on a table with a dead old man that Grantaire does not recognize.

When the cartridges are distributed, Grantaire has no gun. He stays in the corner, his hands shaking too hard to fight. His friends glance at him, disappointed. He joins them even so. The sun beats down on his bare head, and the salty sweat stings his eyes.

He dies weeping.

  1. by the last stand in the wine-shop



Grantaire wakes to the smell of death. Fighting rages outside, vicious and bloodthirsty. Grantaire knows that his friends must very well be dead. It takes a while for him to stir.

The foundations of the Corinthe shake beneath his feet under the pounding of men’s feet. He hears people screaming for their lives, pleading with the inhabitants of the houses to let them in. Enjolras shouts for the remaining fighters to pass through the wine-shop.

Grantaire stumbles downstairs to find the few remaining barricading the doors. Grantaire’s heart does not have time to seize at the sight of the dead, at the blood. He spots a scrap of familiar fabric from Bossuet’s old coat, the shattered remains of what once was Joly’s cane. There are no guns left for him. He takes up the bottles instead. The acid inside burns his hands when it splashes, but he doesn’t care. When he runs out, he kicks. He punches.

_You killed my friends_ , Grantaire thinks, in a never-ending, pulsing beat. _You killed my friends._

Enjolras has to drag him up the stairs at the last, when there is nothing left to fight with. His legs throb, and sweat and blood drip off his nose. His hands are broken, bruised and swollen, bloody and burnt.

Enjolras holds them anyway.

  1. before it’s too late



Grantaire wakes when Enjolras is the only one left.

Enjolras is splattered by blood, and his clothes are torn, but his skin is untouched by the battle. He’s breathing heavily when he sees Grantaire. Grantaire has the pleasure of seeing him shocked for the second time in his life.

“Get down,” Enjolras hisses. “Pretend you are dead. I’ll draw their attention.”

“No,” Grantaire says. He feels strangely calm, now that he has said it. His head is clear.

“There is no sense in wasting your life here,” Enjolras says. “We have only a little time.”

Grantaire doesn’t respond. It’s true that he could hide. There are any number of dead bodies that could disguise his. They will not examine them too closely today.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras entreats. “We all chose to sacrifice our lives here. I wouldn’t abandon you to a fate you did not choose.”

“But I do choose it.”

A crash from underneath. It seems that one of the guardsmen has fallen down. Grantaire ignores it. He swallows.

“I do believe,” he says, looking up at Enjolras. He finds that he means it.

Enjolras smiles, and takes his hand.


End file.
